


Not Completely Whole

by HunterOfTheWord



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amputee Dean, Gabe is a cool dude, M/M, Nerd Dean, Returning Work, Sam is pretty caring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 12:27:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12984066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterOfTheWord/pseuds/HunterOfTheWord
Summary: Dean Winchester is just your regular, everyday teenage boy who happened to lose his leg in fight with a truck. It happens to everyone. It really doesn't make him stand out. And if doesn't make him any different to normal.Or at least that's what he keeps telling himself.There's battles with anxiety, with nervousness and with people that don't understand at all.At least he can safely say every other school student deals with them in their life. That's normal.





	Not Completely Whole

**Author's Note:**

> This was deleted a few years ago. I'm re-uploading it for nostalgia's sake. My writing has changed a lot since this was last online but I'm going to try to keep edits down to a minimum so that's it's uploaded in almost the same way it was last time.
> 
> Enjoy.

Dean Winchester was an amputee. It wasn't his fault but then he suspected that was what every amputee said. It was a matter of circumstances. Circumstances that were created by little pockets of time that all added up to a big pocket of time and these little pockets could change everything.

Okay, now he had confused himself.

The point was, he didn't like being an amputee. He didn't like not being able to walk properly. He didn't like having to use crutches. He didn't like being wobbly and he didn't like how, at every school he went to, people noticed he was different.

Being less than whole made everything harder. Hell, he couldn't even go to the loo in the night without finding his crutches or putting on his prosthetic. For some reason, people always had this idea that being an amputee was amusing. That it was fun. That it was new and different and exciting and people treated you better.

That was bullcrap.

It wasn't amusing, it was hard. His body struggled with hard work. He had to keep himself fit and he was proud that he did but exercise was so much harder when you were missing a limb. It wasn't fun, it was a pain in the ass. How are you meant to do things with only one fully functioning leg? Sure, it was fairly new. He hadn't been whole for nearly three full years now. So, compared to some people, he wasn’t yet accustomed to the situation. And yes, being an amputee was definitely different, but not in a good way. There were opportunities and things that other people were just given that he had to fight for. Jesus, it was only just in the last few years that an amputee had been allowed to compete in the Olympics and hadn't that just blown up in everyone’s face. 

Being an amputee did not make Dean Winchester weak, despite what his father had said, or implied, or whatever. Being an amputee did not make him a freak. Being an amputee did not make him a failure. Being an amputee made him a kid that just happened to have slightly less in the way of body parts than everyone else.

That was all.

Unfortunately, not everyone saw it that way. And on Monday he was going to a new school and was going to meet more people who wouldn't see it that way. This was his fourth school in the three years he'd been missing his leg and he doubted it would be any different. He wouldn't have cared, his Dad would be moving on and taking him and his little brother with him soon, but he just wanted to be accepted. Just once. He was human. He had feelings. He sure as hell wasn't a dick. So he should be accepted. He didn't really understand why he wasn't. He knew why he wasn't but he didn't understand it.

He was different.

So when Monday rolled round and he had to get ready for school, he shoved on his prosthetic, deciding that would make him look more normal than his crutches, and tugged on a pair of straight jeans. Personally, he preferred his skinnys but they made the fake limb even more obvious and he couldn't deal with that. A tight black shirt was pulled over his head and he shoved on his glasses before turning to look at himself in the mirror. Yes, he would blend in. Nothing he was wearing made him stand out in particular. Just plain clothes. That would do. And then he could pretend not to exist and even that would be better than being called out on his hidden insecurities.

There was a shout from downstairs so he grabbed his back, shoved all the pens and books he would need for the day inside, before swinging the black rucksack over his shoulder. Plain and black. Another item he had picked out solely for the purpose of disappearing into the crowd. And it was cheap, so if it was stolen like last time then he didn't really lose much. 

Shutting his bedroom door behind him, Dean half staggered down the stairs to see his little brother stood waiting for him. Sam went to a different school to Dean but still insisted on walking with him. He insisted it was because he just liked to spend time with his older brother but Dean suspected it was because he was worried. He didn't know why. He could look after himself. It wasn't like he was a complete invalid.

Smiling at his little brother, Dean grabbed the piece of toast that was being held out for him before walking out through the door and onto the street. He knew that the prosthetic made him walk funny so naturally, he tried desperately to fix it so he would look normal. So far, not so good.

But it didn't matter. Because it was a sunny day and sure, he might be walking to school, but he was with Sammy and he was happy. 

And so there rest of the world could wait. This was perfect. One perfect pocket of time surrounded by other pockets of time that might not be so perfect.

There. That was what he had meant earlier. It seemed very simple now. Before, he thought it made him sound like a genius.

“Dean?” He was pulled from his thoughts by his little brother's voice and he whipped his head round to smile at the smaller Winchester.

“Yeah?”

“Be careful today. Please.”

Dean couldn't help the ghost of a smirk that flashed across his face.

“Ah, Sammy. I'm always careful. It's my second name.”

At that, Sam pulled his best bitch face, jutting his chin forward and narrowing his eyes.

“You said the other day that your middle name was Awesome.”

Throwing his head back, Dean laughed loudly. He knew his whole body joined in when he laughed but Sam seemed to like it. If Sam liked it, he wasn’t going to stop it.

“Yeah, well. It's that too. I have two middle names, didn't you know?”

The youngest brother rolled his eyes fondly before falling silent and looking down at the floor. That meant that he conversation was over. It was done. Time to think about the day ahead and what it might bring.

Friends? Not likely.

Nice teachers? Not likely.

Good food? Not likely.

Crap, he was done for.

When they reached the entrance of the school, it was empty. No one was there yet. Figures. Dean had been asked to arrive early to talk to administration or something. Apparently they didn't just want to give him a time table but also set up a support network in-case he had issues and wanted to talk. He wouldn't want to talk.

Dean reached over to Sam and pulled him into a bone crushing hug before ruffling his hair. 

“Go have fun at school, Bitch.”

Bitchface number two of the day. Brilliant. He should actually start to make a record of these. They were quite amusing, really.

“You too, Jerk.”

He laughed and nodded. The morning ritual. They had been doing it for the last three years. Since the “Accident.” Sam had thought Dean was going to die and so now, he made sure that their last words to each other, every morning, were pleasant ones. Even if they had been having an argument, they would still wish each other a good day. 

They would always wish each other a good day.

Dean would have complained about it but he understood. They had both been through a lot and his brother just wanted him to know that he was loved.

So, after saying goodbye to Sam, he walked straight to the main desk with a big smile on his face. Sam loved him. Sam thought he was a hero. Sam admired him. Sam did not just see Dean as another disabled kid and that's because he wasn't disabled. Disabled was a frame of mind. Disabled was just what people saw when he looked at him. He would rather they didn't. He would rather they just saw Dean.

After talking to the receptionist, he'd been directed to an office. It took a few minutes to find but he got there eventually. Sam would have told him off for not using the signs. So Dean mentally chastised himself in Sam's voice, smiling at the Bitch-face he created in his head. Bitch-face 23 from Thursday last week, a particularly amusing one. 

When he finally arrived at the office, he knocked on the door and waited before having it pulled open to reveal a fairly young woman with dark brown hair and a slightly intimidating air about her. He was gestured inside and then his hand was shaken. People were talking but he zoned out. He had had this conversation so many times before. A list of the school rules and a talking about how much the teachers admire students like him.

Students like him?

Every student was damn well like him. He wasn't different and he hated that freaking phrase.

Students like him.

Oh, you mean everyone?

“Dean, are you listening?”

A sharp voice cut through his internal monologue and he had to quickly look up at the person that seemed to be talking to him.

“What... Uh. Yeah, Miss?”

She snorted and shook her head before sitting down and handing him a pack.

“I just said you were to call me Pamela, Miss is too formal.”

“Oh, right. Of- Of course. Yeah. I knew that. I... I was listening. I swear.”

Dean knew he sounded flustered now. He couldn't help it. It was what happened now when anything seemed to go wrong or he had made a mistake or if people he didn't know showed him attention.

He would get all nervous and stutter and stumble over words. He knew what he wanted to stay. He knew how to say it but he just couldn't seem to get the words out. Sam thought it had something to do with his self-confidence and lack of it. Yeah, the last few years had really knocked it out of him.

After a few more questions that he managed to breeze through with one or two word answers, a pealing bell cut through the conversation and he swallowed thickly. Well, here goes. His first day at a new school. This was going to be tough.

A flood of sounds seemed to drift down the corridor and seeped through the door. Voices. Lots of voices. Lots of people. Lots of people that would know he was different, he was a freak.

No. The internal Sam was telling him to stop thinking like that. He wasn't a freak and his brother loved him, he could do this.

“Welcome to Broad-Ash High, Dean. I think you'll like it here.”

Pamela was still speaking. Dean wanted her to stop. He wanted to just start the day. He didn't want to be stuck in this stuffy office any more so as soon as she gave the signal that he could go, he was off like a shot, launching himself through the office door and into the throng of people outside.

Filled with apprehension and worry, he began to make his way to his first class.

Only several hours to go and he could go home.

And day one would be over.

And everything would be okay.

And he could see Sammy again.


End file.
